Crooked
by pastelhorror-ura
Summary: Forgetting the past is anything but easy. But the past should stay in the past, at least that's what Tetsuya believes. Disguised as Kurose, his past doesn't come to haunt him, but to snatch him back, slowly dragging him into the treacherous waters he thought he had escaped. Seijuurou had planned this. He is most pleased. [AkaKuro] [Assassin Fic]
1. Crooked Waiter

**Characters; Pairings:** Akashi Seijuurou; Kuroko Tetsuya / AkaKuro

**AU:** Assassin AU; Kuroko with black hair

**Warnings:** Slight OOCness due to the characters' situations, possibility of sexual situations in the future

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke nor the characters in this fanfiction. The only thing I own are my words and my ideas.**

**Summary:**

Forgetting the past is anything but easy. But the past should stay in the past, at least that's what Tetsuya believes. Disguised as Kurose, his past doesn't come to haunt him, but to snatch him back, slowly dragging him into the treacherous waters he thought he had escaped. Seijuurou had planned this. He is most pleased.

**Account I: Prologue**

_/There once lived a man in a crooked house, living a crooked life. He, too, was crooked like the paintings hanging above the walls, like the crookedness of his friends and the crookedness of his family. Even his dog was crooked. (Inspired by Crooked Man) /_

Tetsuya glances wearily at the table he is assigned, lips aching to quirk into a displeased frown. Far too familiar faces invade his vision, striking bright-colored hair seperating these figures from the rest of the restaurant. He's in disguise, of course, dressed in the normal waiter uniform of white collared long sleeves rolled to his elbows along with black pants covered by a tight black apron. He wears contacts of a golden color, different in intensity compared to the eyes of a man he used to know. His hair is dyed a stark black, the darkness contrasting his pale alabaster complexion. He isn't Kuroko Tetsuya- not here at least. He's Kurose and just that. The waiter doesn't doubt a familiar person's keen eye sight, however and that fact renders him apprehensive. Cautious, maybe, but there's a reason for his sudden thoughts of withdrawal. That's a past he rather not visit.

Tetsuya takes the assigned entrees, sucking in a breath that feels like shards of glass scraping at his insides as he trots towards the table painted in rainbow men. With every step he takes he feels large weights drop onto his shoulders, memories crashing down onto him like merciless bounts of crackling thunder. He remains stoic, golden eyes with a lack of luster, lips pressed into a tight, straight line.

As he places the dishes besides their respective owners, uttering faint [Insert fancy ass entrees here ye] here [more] and there. They accept their food happily, the blond model's sun-colored eyes twinkling in excitement, the navy-headed ganguro-looking man practically drooling as Tetsuya hands him the plate, and the purple-headed giant exhuberating intense need as Tetsuya approaches. He excuses himself, for he has two more dishes to fetch, and their leader with glowing crimson eyes nods in approval. When Tetsuya escapes those watching, calculating eyes his stomach churns agonizingly as he exhales in relief, temporary relief he finds absolutely necessary in order to endure dangerous situations involving blood-stained memories he'd rather forget. When he picks up the rest of the orders in his hands, he stares at the food and has the urge to wretch, but he sucks in another shard-filled breath and finds himself approaching the table once again, struggling to suppress the fear crawling up his fingertips to his forearms, like spiders skidding through his skin in a fervent motion.

The man with scarlet hair is the first to detect his presence, feline-like eyes peering from the side to watch him approach, his gaze burning with an intensity like scorching flames. Tetsuya makes a point not to make eye contact, placing the food in front the red head in silence, doing the same to the large man with odd, bright green hair with rectangle-rimmed glasses. Tetsuya bows to excuse himself, but he halts when the red head begins to speak.  
"Waiter, may I inquire your name?" He asks with a raise of an eyebrow, continuing, "For reference, of course."

It's stupid, but Tetsuya feels a lump in his throat and has difficulty swallowing. The memories are rushing back in mere milliseconds and Tetsuya can only clutch onto the sides of his pants, balling his fists into the cloth as he meets the man's gaze- Akashi Seijuurou is his name- in order to find himself almost frozen in place.

It's idiotic, but he remembers fragmented memories he's tried to forget for years and years, he's reminded of the agony he had endured after becoming affiliated with Seijuurou, and he wants to cry and scream and throw up his insides.

_/"May I inquire your name?" The man in the black suit with the noticeable red tie folds his hands over the table, resting his chin on top of them._

_Tetsuya inhales slowly, large cerulean eyes shifting from left to right nervously as he picks at the hem of his shirt. "Kuroko Tetsuya," he murmurs silently in apprehension. Akashi Seijuurou's lips quirk upwards as he_ _raises himself from his seat and approaches the blue headed man. _

_"You intrigue me," he says in a husky, saccharine manner that sends jolts and shivers down Tetsuya's spine, but his expression remains cool and composed. He doesn't know why he's here, or how he's gotten here, but he knows, just from the aroma of the room, an aroma sickly sweet and clean, enticing- this is a mistake./_

"Intriguing," Seijuurou comments with a small nod, as if on cue, picking up his fork and knife, the steel-stained utensil gleaming under the artificial light source above them. "Thank you. We will call you when assistance is further required."

Just the tone of Seijuurou's voice is enough to make Tetsuya want to crumble into pieces to be swept away by the wind that, unfortunately, is absent. He nods, forcing a small smile as his job acquires it, bowing before excusing himself once again. The nausea doesn't pass, it only intensifies within Tetsuya's whole system before he finally, after leaving the sights of the inner structure of the restaurant, quakes in fear. No one can see him- one of the benefits in having normal, black hair as opposed to his biological sky blue locks. He clutches at his chest, a sudden shortening of his breath, as the past washes over him like waves crashing arbitrarily on a stormy day. Words ring in his ears, words whispered against his ear by the man who had ruined his life, by the man who had stripped him of his pride and reputation. He wants to cry but he bites down to suppress those pitiful emotions, propping himself back up to continue working. He could only hope that the rest of his shift would pass without incident.

Tetsuya is called once again, an hour after having their dinners served to them, beckoning the 'Kurose' to order dessert. Seijuurou is the one that calls him over, with Atsushi - the purple-haired glutton- ordering what it seems a superfluous amount of sweets. It's amazing how close the five are for Tetsuya knows that each order comes out of Seijuurou's pocket and the red-headed abomination isn't one to treat others easily nor tolerate them with a mother-like fondness laced with a stern indifference.

Tetsuya isn't surprised by this order, but the Chef sure is for he sputters mild vulgarities and complaints as he eases through the list.

"Cheesecake, Parfait, cake, crème brulee, chocolate shakes, vanilla shakes, strawberry smoothies," Taiga mutters grumpily as he places each dish. "You should just drink up the vanilla shake to spite them, Kurose."

Tetsuya smiles at the chef and bows his head before he takes each order and brings them back to the rainbow-headed guests. It takes a whole four rounds for Tetsuya to deliver each one, huffing softly as he sets down each order before realizing Atsushi is already on his third dessert, as well as Daiki. When Tetsuya places the vanilla shake before Seijuurou, each person perks up, noticing the cool drink.

"Uwo- Akashicchi, you ordered a vanilla shake?" Ryouta- the blond- asks curiously, bringing his smoothie to his lips.

"How nostalgic," Daiki comments as he swallows another piece of chocolate cake.

"Yes," Seijuurou answers, grabbing the cool drink and observing it with calculating eyes. "It reminds me of that fellow. It seems I ordered it upon instincts."

Tetsuya freezes, hearing that statement, unaware of his noticeable trembling. They're talking of him, the man they casted aside painfully, only to be throne into a life of disaster. They had made him miserable, had made him vulnerable and, and- they have the galls to mention his existence in such a nonchalant manner? Tetsuya isn't surprised. No, not really. He's shocked there is no laughter, no ridicule at an implication of their past that had included him. The bewilderment lies all upon Seijuurou who sips the drink slowly, an expression as stoic as his own, the man whose fondness lay not on sweets. Tetsuya remembers the times where he had been in company with the red head, sipping the shake as they played a game of shogi. Seijuurou always won, giving disapproving glances at the drink before finally voicing his complaints. Seijuurou, unlike Tetsuya, dislikes vanilla.

That scares him.

Perhaps it's an irrational fear but Seijuurou isn't one to stray from the paradigm, the now raven-headed waiter is much too aware. And that awareness makes him sick to his stomach, more than the nausea that hit earlier. "Would that be all?" He asks with sudden haste, his complexion paler than normal. There's a ringing reverberating in his ears and he's almost certain he's going to pass out, but he clutches onto the side of his arm in a painful manner to keep himself awake. The group notices his sudden demeanor and question him.

"Are you alright? You don't look so good," Ryouta states, gently placing his smoothie back down to the table.

"If you're ill, then working isn't the most ideal situation," Shintarou, the green-head, comments, pushing up his glasses in a pretentious manner.

****Mentions of vomiting. If unsettled, please skip the following lines until further notified****  
"I apologize if I look unsightly," Tetsuya can only mutter. "Please excuse me." He bows with haste, before retreating in a quickened pace to the bathroom. He heads straight into one of the stalls, doubling over as he hurls lunch's contents into the toilet bowl. He keeps quiet, quiet as one can while vomiting, only regretful that he hadn't made it to the staff bathroom in time. Luckily, he is alone in the bathroom and that his faltering is unseen and unheard by anyone else.**** end **** After a few moments of silence, Tetsuya calming himself in his head, he rises and flushes the toilet, wiping his lips as he approaches the sink warily. He stares at his reflection as he washes his hands, displeased with his appearance, displeased at what he had been reduced to. After wiping his hands dry, he takes out the case for his contacts and proceeds to poke the right contacts out, placing it gently inside before working his way to the left eye. He stops, however, once he sees himself in the mirror, noticing the resemblance he harbors to Seijuurou with the golden eye. Seijuurou doesn't have it now, but he did back then. For a few seconds he has the ache to hurl once again, but there is nothing left in his stomach and he simply feels the nausea build up without an option of relief. He works to remove the other one, placing the content back in its case, before he hears a gruff, familiar voice.

"Yo, Kurose, you alright?" Daiki enters the washroom in suit and tie, hands fully rested in his pockets. His strides are long, as his height is, though his lazy meander is halted by the sight of Tetsuya's radiant, electric blue eyes. "What the-"

"Shit," Tetsuya mutters, shoving the case back into his pockets, turning to face the other way so Daiki doesn't have sight of those eyes. But it's already too late, for the large, tan male is inching closer for further inspection to which Tetsuya only steps back in a panicked manner.

"Your eyes-"

"I'm alright, I'm sorry for interrupting you," he says in his usual monotone, cultivating methods of escape in his head.

"You wear contacts?" Daiki presses as he approaches in bewilderment.

"Yes, I have poor eyesight, now please excuse me-"

"But your eyes are blue-"

"No, they're gold. I'm not sure what you're talking about-"

"I saw them, Kurose, they're blue-"

"They aren't, they're gold, now please excuse me I have to work-"

"Your name isn't Kurose isn't it?"

"Excuse me," Tetsuya hurriedly tries to fly past the larger male, to no avail as Daiki grasps his wrist, shock still written in his oceanic blue eyes.

"Isn't it?"

"Please let go." Tetsuya shields his eyes with his free hand, resisting with all his might. "I have a job to get back to. If you don't stop I'll have to have the guards escort you ou-"

"Your name isn't Kurose. You have blue eyes," Daiki finalizes, narrowing his eyes. His grip tightens and Tetsuya winces.

"Please- just-"

"I knew you looked familiar. You dyed your hair too," Daiki continues, as if in a trance.

"Let go." Tetsuya's voice is stern, ice cold, and he drops all acts at once, flicking his gaze up at Daiki only to sneer at the larger male.

"Where have you been- we've been looking all over for you-"

"Let. Go."

"Tetsu-"

"_Let. Go._" There's hatred laced in the tone of the lazuli-eyed male, lips quirking down into a frown. He pulls his hand but Daiki only tightens. "Let go right this instant. I don't know who you are, and you do _not_ know who I am. My name is Kurose and I'm 25 years old. You don't know me. Now you're disrupting my job and I would appreciate it if you _let the fuck go_ right this instant," Tetsuya seethes, his pupils dilating in a dangerous manner.

Daiki freezes, easing up his grip before tightening again, pinning Tetsuya against the wall as he hovers above the latter in a menacing manner. "You're not going anywhere until you explain."

Before the waiter has the opportunity to protest, the door opens and a customer walks in to do his business. Daiki releases his hold on the smaller male upon the other's entrance, which allows Tetsuya to flee.

When Daiki follows Tetsuya out in a rush, his eyes peer from all sides of the room, narrowing cobalt blue eyes as he tries to find the phantom-like male. It's no use and he knows it for Tetsuya's strange presence is something only a select few can counter. His eyes just aren't good enough, they aren't like _his_. Upon acceptance of his failure, Daiki returns to the table with a face painted in agitation, lips quirking downwards into a frown. The four give him questioning looks before he finally speaks up, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I found Tetsu."

All seemed to perk up at this statement.

"ER... But I lost him, so..."

**Author's Note: *please read!***

Hello! It's Ura here bringing out a new fic o' mine. This idea was? Just brought on by the intense need to have a black haired Kuroko okay. Um, a few notes;;

Sorry for such a short chapter but I'm just setting things up for now. Continuation of the fic is based on motivation, of course, so updates are sporadic! But I do try to make chapters long simply because I like them better (and by long I mean 5-6k; I'm far too busy to do more and find difficulty in just achieving those numbers). Also, I tend to have a different perception of each KnB members so I apologize if you guys find them ooc! Currently, I've only set up stages for what will be happening in the next few chapters so I may not update this (If I do choose to update) until at least the third or fourth chapter is written. I apologize! Reviews and Favs are appreciated-

As for the pairings: This fic is AkaKuro indefinetely. The MidoKuro- odd as may sound because the two are quite incompatible, is purely platonic (a dream I had that has really inspired me to go with my gut and continue forth with their platonic development). This fic will explore dark themes within Akashi and Kuroko's relationship so I'm sorry if it's not all happy and fluff at first! To be honest, I'm not too sure of the direction I'm going so we can only wait and see. I also start break soon so I hope I'll be able to write for everybody. I might also post art of this fic on my tumblr u v u*))/

Thank you very much for reading! Until then. (The rating will be change when we get there!)

-Ura


	2. Crooked Lover

**Warning: animal death, bg character death, violent descriptions, awkward erotic hand washing**

Silence.

Tetsuya can't afford to return to his job so he quit the moment he returned home a week ago, brain ablaze with paranoia. It's been a week and no signs of Seijuurou and Tetsuya doesn't know whether he should be pleased or even more worrisome. His thoughts are muddled, filled to the brim with Seijuurou and the past, Seijuurou and the future, Seijuurou and everything Seijuurou. It's filthy and disgusting, a desecration of what used to be Kuroko Tetsuya. He doesn't move from his spot on the couch, limbs sprawled out in a careless manner, lips pressed tightly into a thin line as electric blue eyes stare mindlessly at the ceiling above. The raven-headed male only parts his lips to allow a sigh to escape before he closes those eyes, returning to a world of darkness.

[Flashback]

_"__He is using you."_

_To what extent of naivety Tetsuya harbored, no one questioned such innocence nor gave it a second glance. But there was pity in everyone's eyes as they watched his figure be pulled in arbitrary directions by puppet strings enacted by who seemed to be the God of these people. Tetsuya had no idea. Or rather he knew, he understood, yet held onto his hopes, held onto a reality that didn't exist. It was foolish. He was foolish._

_Tetsuya's vision was blurred by a piercing scarlet light that directed him not into open skies of vast freedom but instead, a landscape covered in large amounts of muck and sludge of black tar that dirtied him, tainting his sacrosanctity. An angel defiled by a king adorning red clad, whose sanguinary eyes gleamed in the sunlight. A natural born malefactor. And Tetsuya fell._  
_There were caresses involved, sweet nothings whispered tantalizingly in his ear in a hushed, husky manner. The deceiver was always shameless in his works, corrupting the angel at any chance he got. Tetsuya couldn't fight Seijuurou. And Seijuurou had fun._

_Manipulation at its finest._

_[End]_

_And Tetsuya continued to fall. Seijuurou was the main audience and he enjoyed watching his little angel plummet to the depths of hell with him, capturing him with ease. He practically didn't have to try in the least. And amusing as it was at first, he got bored. A simple miscalculation, but his toy broke. And the newly fallen angel had fled. But that falter was something easily fixed in due time. And Seijuurou relished in his absoluteness, his unquestionable reign of terror._  
_Who was Akashi Seijuurou?_

A nightmare. Tetsuya awakes with shaken gasps, heart pulsating in an erratic manner. He clutches onto the fabric of his couch in sudden agony, eyes wide and fearful. Even after years his mind is invaded with the dictator-like man he had fallen for, and there's this sense of nausea he feels just thinking about the crooked fate he has been thrown into. He doesn't want to leave the comforts of his couch, but the nightmares are relentless and unforgiving, unmerciful. Tetsuya contemplates another nap, however, before a soft whine can be heard in the kitchen. Ah, Nigou.

Tetsuya shuffles off of the couch messily, falling to the ground with a soft _thud_, with little care for the fleeting sharp pain on his rear end. He gets up, scurrying to Nigou in an exasperated manner, going straight into the cupboards to fetch his husky's food mix. As he fills up the bowl, Tetsuya lets out a yawn. Now that he's up and moving, he might as well be productive.

Crouching down to watch Nigou eat, he taps his own cheek before whispering, "How about we go for a walk?" Nigou doesn't reply, immersed in a ravenous consumption of his daily meal, swallowing down the mix as if he hadn't eaten for days. "When you're done eating," the blue-eyed adult adds, standing back up to change.

[*]

Tetsuya takes Nigou to the nearest park, sitting by the swings as his husky scavenges around, sniffling at the grass and bark, at the pavement, at children's feet if they so permit it. He watches his canine with iced aquamarine eyes, compiling a list of necessities. A lost job only means he needs another one; he has little saved and such an amount could not suffice his living as well as Nigou's. He's prepared to give up his own meals, even at his favorite shake's expense, just to make sure his husky has food in his bowl. Perhaps now he's simply living in cadence with Nigou, as if they were inseparable twins. Tetsuya has no plans on giving up, even if the sole reason for his pending existence relies on an aging canine of eight years. Indeed, his mutt is growing old and Tetsuya fears his best friend's perish, but it's a fact he has to face one day. But he doesn't want to think about that.

Once it gets dark, Tetsuya and Nigou make their way back towards the apartment complex, Tetsuya's brain compiling a list of possible new occupations. It's rather unfortunate, Tetsuya muses, as his job as a waiter had paid quite well. But Tetsuya can't dwell too much on the loss and has to keep moving forward.

Until his tracks cease. Or shall I rephrase: He bumps into a man with a large frame, halting his tranquil meander. Tetsuya steps back and bows as apology, but Nigou is glaring at the person head-on, growling dangerously. When the raven-head looks up, he's met with eyes shining viridian behind a pair of rectangle spectacles. His breath hitches.

"You shouldn't day dream as you walk in the streets at this time," Shintarou state chastisingly, pushing up his specs as he pays no mind to Nigou.

"I apologize for my recklessness," Tetsuya murmurs, tightening his grip on Nigou's leash.

"As you should, nanodayo."

"Will you tell the others about this?" Tetsuya bravely inquires with a raise of a brow. Nigou doesn't seize his warnings.

"Hmph. And what business do you have with that knowledge? Will you run away again, nanodayo?"

"Of course you will," the icy-eyed male answers himself. "You are the closest to him, after all."

"Hmph. Then did you have to ask?" Shintarou inquires rhetorically, hmphing. Tetsuya eases his muscles before walking around the other.

"I suppose not."

"Kuroko," Shintarou says, stopping the shorter once again. "I'll give you two days."

"He'll be angry," Tetsuya comments. "It is unlike you to defy him."

"My world doesn't revolve around Akashi like yours does, nanodayo. He can deal with it," Shintarou rebuts with a sharp inhale.

"I won't leave because of the likes of you," Tetsuya states finally before promptly walking off.

"Then don't be surprised when chaos ensues. I gave you a chance to run, after all," Shintarou whispers to the wind as he trots off in the other direction, when Tetsuya is long gone.

Defiance, is it?

[*]

Three days. Tetsuya had been counting each day since he had encountered a former acquaintance, from the hours down to the minute. He had contemplated running away, taking Shintarou's offer and once again escaping the grasps of the miracles.

But Tetsuya doesn't have the connections or money. Perhaps that thought had failed to grasp Shintarou when he had suggested it. But then again, the miracles are well bred, very sheltered children of prestige families, despite their current occupation. And Tetsuya isn't like that. He had come from a self-made middle class family that only had enough money to support the three for a good, hard work-filled life. But with his parents gone, there is no more support but himself. And that has been quite a difficulty ever since he had thrown out the assassin lifestyle.

Exhaling as he enters his apartment, he expects a loving pounce from his adored pet, but instead is met with blazing vermillion, a color he had once found a strange affinity for, relishing in its warmth and vibrant intensity. But he fears this color now, despises it as a polar bear would to a volcano. The color is overbearing, radiating gloriously, suffocating. It is a color one could not miss, for it is so sharp, so ferocious, as if it could bare fangs and engulf you in its vehement rays. Tetsuya gulps, clutching onto the door knob as he fails to shut the door, frozen in his place. Seijuurou sits idly on the couch as if he were sitting on a throne, posture poised and exuding confidence and an air of superiority. His gaze never leaves the door, and when Tetsuya's glaciers meet face to face with his blazing sun-kissed eyes, his lips curl up into a small smile.

And Tetsuya fears he's starting to melt.

"Why are you here?" the jobless male asks quite frankly, trying to remain as undeterred as much of his sanity allows him to.

"To talk," Seijuurou answers curtly, patting at the cushion by his side.

"This is breaking and entering and frankly, I'm willing to call the cops. How did you even get in here?" Tetsuya remains pasted at his place, however, defiance gleams in his azure pupils.

"If I did not resort to drastic measures, you would not talk. Just a few moments is all I ask," Seijuurou presses, patiently waiting for Tetsuya to concede and place himself by his side. "I will be quick."

"You aren't welcome." Tetsuya's words are harsh icy winds blowing towards Seijuurou's meekly lit candle, yet that candle continues its faint liveliness as if the winds have no affect on it.

"And if I hadn't done this, we would not be able to talk. This is urgent."

"As far as I'm concerned I do not work for you anymore, therefore whatever urgency you and your men are facing, it is of little importance to me."

Tetsuya doesn't move, but his fear is extinguishing and Seijuurou sees it in the way his eyes narrow, in the way Tetsuya spits fire from his mouth as if he were born to do it. And frankly, he's amused, or would be amused if it wasn't for this urgent news he is trying to deliver.

"Tetsuya," Seijuurou pleads, or perhaps its his way of pleading, but if anyone else were to hear such pleas, it would seem more than a command uttered softly. "This pertains to your well being and I would appreciate it if you would listen."

"My well being?" Tetsuya inquires with a raise of a brow. "What is it?"

"The only reason we were able to find your location is because of spies I had sent to a rivaling assassin's group. And even then, we did not find your specific location until a week ago where you so happened to work in disguise."

Tetsuya intakes the information like inhaling prickly needles into his system, registering the information slowly with light bewilderment. He pieces the puzzles together and he understands the news, heeding Seijuurou's warnings, yet still quite confused. The creases of his forehead tells Seijuurou just as much, so he continues to speak.

"You've deduced as much, but you're being hunted. We hadn't heard of it since last year, but you gained quite the reputation when you had been working with us. And they want to take me down, I suppose."

Tetsuya's tight lips pressed into a line tips downward, his fingers finding the cloth of his pants and curling around the fabric. He exhales, repeating the information in head like a mantra before shaking his head. "Why me? I don't understand."

"To utilize you, I'm certain of it," Seijuurou answers. "I came to you not just to deliver this warning but to propose you return to us. It is of vital importance to keep you away from those heathens." Seijuurou stands now, slowly approaching Tetsuya. His eyes are as sharp and calculating as ever, as if Tetsuya is a mathematical equation he solves with relative ease. The black-haired male is a picture book and Seijuurou enjoys seeing every picture of every page, devouring the details as if they were a meal. Tetsuya's breath hitches and he steps back in an attempt to escape. But Seijuurou stops just a few feet away as a sign he's no danger and yet Tetsuya feels as if he were a prey backed into a corner.

"No," he chokes out.

"Kuroko," Seijuurou utters gently and it's soft and meant to be reasonable but Tetsuya refuses, he denies the softness of those words. He can't afford to succumb to this man's satisfaction. He'll lose, and he'll lose the rest of what he has left. He doesn't want that.

"I decline. I don't want to. Please leave."

"Tetsuya," Seijuurou presses again, narrowing his eyes.

"I refuse to be your puppet," he drones with ice cold pale cyan eyes, standing his ground firmly with no intention of giving way to this man, this man he had fallen for, this man that treated him like a toy, this man, this man. Driven by impulse is what he would like to call his actions at the moment, his heart harboring seething galaxies of raging bees, provoked, driven to a corner. He has always been the rational one, rarely unfair and forgiving, but the pang in his chest and the revenge engraved into his brain refuse to come to a consensus. Tetsuya is nothing but a heart and a mind at war, and a broken fortress reduced to rubble. He can't give in, he can't allow himself to surrender. The outcome is already set, but he denies fate and all its twisted ways of weaving the web of life.

"I see," Seijuurou murmurs, a voice quiet and cool despite the forceful rejection. He slips out a card from his pocket and as he walks past Tetsuya, he sneaks it into the smaller's back pocket, a simple sigh escaping his lips. "Please think over your decision. My number is on there."

"I don't need it." Blazing ice at temperatures over ninety degrees, Tetsuya isn't cracking.

"Of course." And with that Seijuurou exits, leaving a pieced-together Tetsuya finding himself weak in the knees. He shuts his door, but finds himself leaning backwards against it, staring at the pearly white walls encasing him. _Sleep_, he tells himself and he does, collapsing onto the couch within mere seconds, wrapping slightly toned arms around a stark white pillow. Seijuurou's cologne still lingers in the air and when he succumbs to slumber, this time, there are no nightmares.

[x]

Two weeks later and Tetsuya finds himself pinned against the wall by a large man in a black suit, two others standing behind him in a menacing fashion. He doesn't struggle, he remains completely still, almost limp. Seijuurou had warned him but he had little idea they would act with such haste- indeed he hadn't been prepared for this break-in. The man holding him forcefully sends Tetsuya into the couch with acrimonious intent, throwing the azure-eyed male like a boy tired of an old action figure, as one would to trash. The three then point a pistol directly at his head, and Tetsuya is at the mercy of strangers with hollow maple eyes.

Nigou senses the intruder and from inside Tetsuya's closed room he is thrashing at the door, growling with such ferocity it is almost unlike him. The husky begins to bark, his warnings almost ear shattering as they ring one after the other like an uncoordinated orchestra. Tetsuya pales as he watches one of the men approach his room where the raging canine is locked from within. He moves but the other two criminals refuse to let him follow, narrowing their eyes.

"Stupid fucking mutt," the approaching one grumbles as he opens the door. The minute he does, Nigou pounces in the air, completely livid, bearing his large canine teeth in a dangerous manner. But the man is faster for with a simple click of the trigger, the bullet pierces his throat, earning an ear-piercing screech before Nigou drops to the floor, blood sputtering out of his poor throat.

Tetsuya screams, hopping off of the coach in an attempt to rescue his friend, but the larger two throw him back onto the couch, kicking him roughly in the stomach.

"Stay put ya piece o' shit," one seethes.  
"Not like you needed that thing anyways. You ain't comin' back here," informs the other with a dignified snort.

Tetsuya stares horrifyingly at his dying friend, whimpers inaudible. His mind goes blank and although these men are snickering, Tetsuya can't hear anything but a piercing ring reverberate against his ears. He fists at the cloth of the couch before his eyes dart onto the three men, expression devoid of anything. His eyes are wide and calculating, pupils dilated. The snickering stops guns are once again aimed at his head.

Tetsuya snaps and lunges forward. Gunshots can be heard from outside.

-  
_[Akashi-san, I've called to report that there were gunshots heard in Kuroko-san's floor. It seems a silencer had been used for it wasn't too loud, but the walls are quite thin and Kuroko's neighbor reported so. We've captured surveillance of three large men in black suits. We've already covered up the situation. That is all for the report.]_

Seijuurou hums knowingly, already on the road to the apartment complex. After ending the call he answers the simultaneous ringing from his personal cell.

"Daiki."

_[I tracked a few of his men in the shady part of town. He's moving fast. What's up with you?]_

"Tetsuya is under attack. I'm currently in my way," he answers smoothly, no trace of concern in his sultry voice.

_[The fuck?! Already?! Why do you sound so ca- never mind. Just bring back Tetsu.]_

"I plan on it," says the red head with a knowing smile creep on his lips.

_[Don't do anything irrational. Or whatever. Call back when you get there. I'll inform the others.]_

"Perfect."

[x]

Seijuurou enters the apartment slightly crinkling his nose at the sharp stench of blood, gently shutting the door behind him only to be met with mayhem. There are three corpses arbitrarily scattered on the floor, one who had a mechanical pencil and a pair of mahogany scissors punctured where his eyes should be, another with a kitchen knife protruding out of his throat, blood still lightly spilling out of the wound, and the last whose face one could not make out for his skull had been bashed in what it seems more than a plenty of times. Seijuurou gave them quick glances with a raise of a brow before he strides towards Tetsuya on the ground, blood pooling around him. There is a moment of panic before he is only inches away and he sees Tetsuya's precious mutt lying dead, blood pooling out of his side. The black-haired male is silently stroking at the dog's bloodied fur, a kitchen knife placed at his side. He doesn't greet Seijuurou, nor does he stray his gaze away from Nigou. When the scarlet-haired assassin glances down at Tetsuya's eyes, there are, surprisingly enough, no tears. There is, however, a glint of sadness flickering from his softened gaze. He opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it the minute it opens, causing Seijuurou's brow to quirk. Is he holding back?

"Tetsuya." The hit-man breaks the silence without falter, voice controlled and cool. He is met with another long silence, listening only to the soft breaths his angel takes, in, out, in, out, a rhythmic tune to it.

Tetsuya caresses Nigou's cheek before finally speaking, though his voice is barely a whisper. Seijuurou hears it, nonetheless. "I'm alone again."

It's a simple three words but there is so much emotion resonating from each word, each syllable, a melancholy resounding in his enunciation. Seijuurou attempts to reply, but Tetsuya beats him to it.

"He was the only one I had left." A short pause before the bloodied male exhales. "After you took everything else, Akashi-kun."

Tetsuya is cruel and it's a game Seijuurou has thrown himself into. He feels a lump in his throat but he is quick to swallow it down, retaining his composure to concoct a controlled reply. "I see." He doesn't know what else to say, he doesn't know why he's here. No- he's here to take Tetsuya back but he doesn't know why he's _here_, attempting to comfort his previous puppet, unable to form words of his own.

"You were once my God, Akashi-kun," Tetsuya continues without hesitation, somber eyes still glued onto his siberian husky.

"And now?" Seijuurou inquires.

"You are still a god," Tetsuya says curtly, continuing with a soft, "Just not mine."

"And who is your god now?"

"I have no god."

"But you are still an angel," Seijuurou comments softly.

"Then I must be fallen."

Another silence ensues before the both of them, soft breaths escaping both parties in a noticeable cadence. Tetsuya does not stop stroking Nigou, bloodied hands catching fur in between his fingers.

"If you have no one else, then allow me to once again be your god," Seijuurou states finally, voice ringing with confidence.

"I refuse."

"Then what will you do now?"

Tetsuya doesn't answer. He's contemplating Seijuurou's request, but he doesn't show any signs of budging.

"Let's face the fact you are like a parasite, Tetsuya. You are nothing without a host. And how many hosts have you burnt up so far?"

Tetsuya isn't offended by this analogy; he tilts his head before murmuring a faint, "And whose fault is that?"

"Mine. I do own up to my sins, after all. But tell me, Mr. 'Shadow.' Now that all your lights have extinguished, what will you do?" Seijuurou presses, presses because perhaps he's never been so determined in his life. He hasn't needed anything- anyone- this badly before. And the hitman doesn't give up.

"I fade."

It's a questionable answer, Tetsuya is aware, for it has many implications. Disappear. Run away. _Suicide_. It gives Seijuurou all the more initiative to keep pushing until he gets what he wants. And he always does.

"You're a logical man, Tetsuya. What will you do?"

"I-.." Tetsuya hesitates, conflicted. This man is not to be trusted. This man has hurt him. This man is absolute.

Of course Tetsuya doesn't believe the last statement. Seijuurou _isn't_ a god. But it's easier to think he is.

Three years, three years. He has grown out of the naivety he had been subject to. Three years to grow older, grow wiser, accept his mistakes, list his regrets. One thousand ninety-five days to repair himself, twenty-six thousand two hundred eighty hours to sew the pieces back together, to patch up the bruises and heal the wounds. Three years.

In a sullen voice, gentle to Seijuurou's ears, Tetsuya speaks, words exhaled. "I don't want to be alone."

Seijuurou isn't surprised in the least. He crouches besides his object of fascination, ignoring the crimson liquid staining his steel-toed leather shoes, staring down at the dog's corpse before flicking his eyes to the blue-eyed man. Seijuurou brings his hand to Tetsuya's bloodied own, still stroking his cherished friend. He grasps the man's hand, stopping the gentle motion before interlacing his fingers with Tetsuya's. The black-haired male gives the assassin a questioning glance, muttering a concerned 'It's dirty.' Seijuurou doesn't mind and continues holding his hand, simply quirking his lips upward.

"I will not be manipulated by you, Akashi-kun. I think I have made that very clear."

"I assure you that you are safe from me," Seijuurou solaces earnestly, squeezing the smaller male's hand for reassurance.

"You aren't necessarily a trustworthy person," Tetsuya quips softly, staring at their bloodied hands.

"And yet I've done nothing in the past to deceive you," Seijuurou counters fluidly with ease. "Everything I've done to you- Everything we've done- nothing has been false. You have always had the option of leaving, even if that choice has never been to my liking, and that stands even now."

Tetsuya throws Seijuurou a questioning look and begins contemplating his words. "But you manipulated me. You treated me as a toy. Do you deny this?"

"I don't."

Seijuurou is an honest man, he always had been. Even his lies, despite his lies, his words had always been earnest. And that scares Tetsuya. It makes him sick. He doesn't know whether he can trust this person.

But he wants to.

"You're intolerable," Tetsuya whispers before shaking his head. "I'll give it a chance- it's my only option. I'd be a fool to turn it down."

Seijuurou's eyes glisten in triumph, but he doesn't celebrate yet. There's always a catch when dealing with Kuroko Tetsuya.

"But as you said, I am free to leave whenever I want. I am in danger. People want me. And I will be using you for protection," Tetsuya continues, sighing. "And just that."

"I don't expect anything less," the red head says contentedly with a soft smile. "Well, onto more serious matters. You've made quite a mess. How did you even think to clean this up yourself?"

"I would have silently obeyed them. I would have willingly been their hostage," the smaller male admits. "But they shot Nigou. And I snapped. I couldn't stop."

Seijuurou simply shakes his head fondly and stands up, gesturing for the other to do so as well, which he does. They are still holding hands; Seijuurou has no intention of letting go. "Let's get you cleaned up, first. I'll have my men clean here. Come." Seijuurou leads Tetsuya into the kitchen as if it were his own home, blatantly jolly. Tetsuya steps in front of the sink and Seijuurou sticks to him like glue, pressing his body against the other's back.

Tetsuya twitches in irritation. "You're too close, Akashi-kun. And how can I was my hands if you're still holding it?"  
He's met with a saccharine snicker behind him, before warm words and a sickly, bratty request is uttered against his ears. Seijuurou's voice is husky, teasing, playful. "Won't you wash mine for me?" And seductive.

_This isn't the time,_ Tetsuya wants to say, but he bites his tongue and huffs exhasperatedly, turning on the faucet with his free hand. Seijuurou frees his angel's hand from his grasp, but continues to hover his bloodied own, fingers spread out for cleaning. The shorter male squirts soap into his hands, gently tugging the taller's hand under the running water before sliding soap onto the hitman's, delicately scrubbing it with soft motions. His fingers glide across Seijuurou's skin like skates on ice, gracefully despite the crimson liquid staining them. The water rushes against their hands, taking the blood with it. Once Seijuurou's hand was clean, Tetsuya began to work on his own before Seijuurou clasps Tetsuya's right hand with his own two, sliding his fingers in between the ravenett's to scrape off the now dry blood. Tetsuya's breath hitches as Seijuurou works to clean each finger, stroking individual in an erotic manner, sliding his wet fingers in between them. The suds stop and the hit-man pumps more soap into his hands to continue washing Tetsuya's, liquid soap lubricating both their fingers.

"Akashi-kun," Tetsuya protests, but is responded with an amused chuckle against his ears. For a moment Tetsuya thinks his heart stops.

The odd motion continues until both parties' hands are blood-free, to which Tetsuya feels he can breathe again. Seijuurou shuts off the running water and Tetsuya expects the other to remove himself from the awkward position- Seijuurou's front is tightly pressed against Tetsuya's back and this isn't sex, the raven-head swears. He thinks he'll finally be able to stop the incessant, rapid _thumpa-thump-thump_ in his chest before a syrupy whisper brushes against his ears.

"I missed you."

And Tetsuya fears, is simply petrified, that he may have fallen once again.

But he'd never admit that. Not this time, at least.

[End of Prologue]

EDIT:: i don't know why but it won't show up the italicized parts? I'm really frustrated I've tried to edit it twice but nothing :/ I might just continue this solely on AO3 because it's making me angry /

WHEEZE Sorry! for such! a late update! I was hoping to post it during Spring Break but I got a little bit uninspired though now I'm! okay! Though exams and such are coming up so I might not be able to update this until summer! UM! I apologize greatly for that,;;;

So as you can see, This was only the! beginning- The prologue was split into two parts! I tried a very long update but I couldn't do it I'm sorry- I had these specific scenes in my head and although I wanted to give you guys a longer update, this was all I could manage for now! I still hope to bring larger updates but because the plot will begin shortly, I have to finalize such and such- and honestly, this fic is purely experimental so I'm kind of going with the flow and writing where my heart takes me.

A few notes for the chapters ahead: Very strong platonic relationship with Kuroko and Midorima WILL happen, as I've stated before. I love their dynamics and I think it would be interesting to have them be good friends despite their initial? dislike in canon- but this isn't canon, of course, so major differences will occur.

Mayuzumi will be appearing in this fic, possibly Nijimura as well.

The pairings in this will be AkaKuro indefinitely. Perhaps I will hint at other pairings but they will be minor and little talked of- I want to focus purely on the shaky relationship of the two.

Also! I apologize if this Kuroko is too ooc for anyone's likings- I, personally, like it. There are back stories to all of this, of course, so just simply request their past and I'll implement it into chapters. Otherwise, I will only hint at major instances in their past and nothing more (though short filler chapters may occur-)

Anyways! Thank you for reading! Happy AkaKuro week and I hope you all have a great week!


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